


Devotion

by theramblinrose



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Can be read alone, F/M, MSR, My Universe, after Irresistible, fast and loose with canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:06:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24529594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theramblinrose/pseuds/theramblinrose
Summary: MSR.  Mulder and Scully decide it’s finally time to tell their parents about their relationship, even if the thought of confessing their devotion to each other is more than a little nerve wracking.  No matter what, they know they’ll find the support they need in each other.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 52
Kudos: 87





	1. Chapter 1

AN: This is another piece to my little universe, but it can also be read entirely alone. I play fast and loose with canon. There’s also a smut warning for this piece.

This takes place some time after the “Irresistible” episode in the show, and it takes place after “The Holinshed Ghost” in “my universe.” 

I own nothing from The X-Files.

I hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think!

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Dana Scully cried out, unashamed, from the pleasure that was so intense it almost bordered on pain. She kept her eyes closed and focused on getting her breath back. She didn’t want to break the perfect feeling in which she was practically cocooned at the moment. Nearly ever nerve felt on edge in the most delicious way possible. Scully relaxed, entirely, into the pillows as her body let go of the tension that had coursed through it while her orgasm had been building.

If she didn’t open her eyes—if she focused on her breathing like she was in meditation—she could maintain this almost foggy feeling of pleasure for at least few moments more.

She allowed her body to be manipulated. She felt when Fox Mulder pulled his weight off of her, after using her body to find his own release inside her. She felt him leave her body, though her sense memory still reminded her that he had only recently been as deep inside her as nature allowed. She felt his hand squeeze its way—pulsing—down her leg, and she felt it knead at the muscles where she’d complained, earlier, of the cramp that had seized her while Mulder’s tongue had been exploring her and he’d been suckling at her clit. 

Scully groaned, arching her back, as Mulder started the trip down her body once again. The slight sting of the occasional bite—too hard as his own pleasure got control of him—wasn’t undesirable. It blended well with the gentle scratch of his softer nibbling. Sucking. Lapping. Biting. Mulder seemed to be content to spend hours just tasting every inch of Scully’s skin, and she couldn’t complain too much about the seeming compulsion.

Mulder latched onto Scully’s nipple, and she arched her back as a surge of desire shot through her and tugged at parts of her that were still throbbing from his earlier careful attention. Amused, he moved a hand between her legs to stroke her, teasing the already sensitive nub and making Scully’s body jerk in reaction as her mind went blank for a moment.

Scully could easily suggest that Mulder was the best lover that she’d ever had, though she really had relatively little with which to compare him. That revelation had surprised him, too, when she’d made it their first time together—in her apartment, and after he’d taken such good care of her after an ordeal in which she’d been kidnapped and, thanks to a rather serious case of amnesia, had been lost for some time in a place she couldn’t recall. Her ordeal had put her in a coma, and it had almost taken her life. Mulder had called her back—or at least that’s how her mind remembered it—from the threshold between life and death. He’d confessed his love to her, and she hadn’t hesitated to echo the sentiment. During her recovery, he’d cared for her for a while before they’d moved their relationship from innocent affection to something more serious and physical.

Mulder had been surprised when Scully had admitted that, though she’d had her share of dates, and even a few so-called relationships, in the past, she’d never really moved far beyond the kissing and making out stages with most of them. She’d expected heavy teasing for her confessed lack of experience—and Mulder did tease her, from time to time about what he called her innocence—but he hadn’t teased her then. He hadn’t teased her the first time. He’d simply promised to take care of her, to the best of his ability for the good of both of them, and he’d delivered on that. 

He’d delivered on that many times, actually, since that day. He was a very giving lover, and he was thankful and appreciative for everything he was given in return. The sex, honestly, only made Scully sorry for every day that she’d known Mulder and had missed out on the possibility of being with him. Still, his stamina could, at times, make him exhausting. 

“I’ve gotta go, Mulder,” Scully breathed out. She moved her leg over him, interrupting his tour-de-Scully, and rolled toward the edge of the bed.

He caught her, before she could leave the bed, and pulled her backward. She laughed to herself as she let him rock her back onto the mattress at the new angle. He kissed her, where he could reach her, over her ribcage.

“I wasn’t done with you, Scully,” he teased.

“I have to go to the bathroom, Mulder,” Scully said. “I have to pee.”

“Not yet,” Mulder insisted, resting his arm across her stomach.

“That’s not helping,” Scully offered. “Just remember—you have nobody but yourself to blame. You did this to me.” 

Mulder smiled to himself at the reminder. For all the teasing, and all the joking, he was happy, and Scully knew that. 

“You said it yourself, Scully. The alien’s hardly bigger than a blueberry. Insignificant. You can’t tell me something that small is making such a dramatic difference in your life.” 

“We’ll talk about it when you’re seven and half weeks pregnant,” Scully offered. 

Mulder playfully groaned and pretended that being asked to release her to use the bathroom was torture after it felt like they’d been tumbling around in bed together, enjoying each other’s bodies, for at least an hour. He didn’t really fight her, though. Scully got up and padded to the bathroom, leaving Mulder to do anything he needed to do in her absence.

In addition to an unprecedented amount of sex and an immeasurable amount of support and affection, Scully and Mulder had gotten an unanticipated surprise from their fast-paced, and relatively short, relationship. After the recent medical scare of Scully’s coma, her doctor had immediately ordered an ultrasound and several tests when Scully had called with her confirmation that an over the counter pregnancy test had reminded her that, following everything that had happened, she had completely forgotten about the fact that her birth control had lapsed.

As soon as Mulder had seen the confirmation, on the screen, of their six-week old embryo’s beating heart—the print out of which he’d placed in a little frame beside Scully’s bed— he’d dubbed the little thing an alien. Their alien.

And they both already loved it more than either of them had imagined possible. It had been a surprise, but it was a surprise created out of as much love, in Scully’s opinion, as any child ever had the good fortune to be born from.

After she washed her hands in the sink, Scully examined herself in the mirror. Nude, she ran her fingers over her stomach. She probed, gently, at the skin beneath her navel. She cupped her own body with her hand. At most, she was as bloated as she’d be from any particularly large or starchy meal. The rational medical doctor part of her knew that there was nothing there to see or feel. The brand-new mother-to-be part of her felt her stomach flutter at the thought that, soon, there might be something to see. It was both exciting and terrifying, for various reasons.

At work, they’d already told everyone it may concern about the fact their work partnership was now something of a dual partnership—at work and in their private lives. They hadn’t been met with absolute approval, but there was little the bureau could do. Inter-office relationships were frowned upon, but not forbidden, and nearly everything that Mulder and Scully did, at the end of the day, was frowned upon by someone.

Now it was time, though, to take the next step. Now it was time to tell their families.

They’d decided to baby-step things with their families, as they were doing with everyone. They’d discussed it and agreed that it would be too much to slam either of their mothers with the news of their dedicated relationship to one another and their impending arrival all at once. It was better to ease into things. Beyond that, Scully wasn’t ready to announce the presence of their little alien until after she’d crossed the first trimester finish line. Though she didn’t expect that anything would happen to terminate the pregnancy, she knew that life was unpredictable and, for she and Mulder, it could be doubly so. 

They would start by confessing the fact that they were seeing each other seriously. They would start by declaring that they were in love with each other—completely devoted to each other, honestly. They would allow their families to adjust to the idea of this serious relationship, and then, in a few weeks, when everything was settled and the pregnancy was a little more secure, they would make further announcements as necessary.

“I was starting to worry about you,” Mulder said when Scully came into the bedroom again. “I got you water but—then I got you ginger ale, too. I didn’t know if you might not be feeling well.” 

Scully smiled to herself. She felt warmth puddling inside her at the simple gesture. Mulder was good at those simple gestures, and they meant more to Scully than she even felt able to communicate to him. 

“I’m fine,” she said. 

Mulder got up, leaving the bed. Like Scully, he hadn’t bothered to dress—either in anticipation of another round of love making—or because it simply wasn’t necessary. He walked toward Scully, and his hands went directly to her hips. He pulled her to him, and rested his chin on her head. She snuggled into him a moment, regretting that she’d missed the post-sex snuggling that was one of her favorite parts of being with Mulder. 

As though he could somehow hear that thought, Mulder wrapped his arms around her and swayed her, gently, holding her close to him. He let his fingers trail lovingly over her back, and he pressed at a knot, here or there, in her muscles to release any tension she was holding onto. 

“I love you, Scully,” he said, breathing out the words. 

Scully pulled away from him just enough to kiss his chest before she snuggled in against him again. 

“I love you, too, Mulder,” she offered, putting a little more voice behind her own declaration. 

“Drink your ginger ale,” Mulder said. “I’m going to—switch places with you. Run to the bathroom. And when I get back—I’m going to finish what we were doing.” 

Scully pulled away from him and smirked. He looked tired—exhausted, even. They’d just come off a case. They’d only gotten back the day before, and she wasn’t sure that Mulder had slept a solid eight hours in three or four days. The sleep deprivation, maybe, was making him as giddy and enthusiastic as he was. 

“The spirit is willing,” Scully said. “But the flesh is weak. You need to rest. Even you have a refractory period, Mulder.”

“I love it when you talk dirty to me, Scully,” Mulder offered in response. 

Scully laughed to herself and pulled away from him, sending him to the restroom. She returned to the bed, rearranged the pillows, and got comfortable reclining against the headboard. She drank the ginger ale that Mulder had poured for her, and she waited for his return from the bathroom. She was sleepy now that her body felt entirely relaxed. She could probably be asleep before he got back, but she wanted to wait for him. She didn’t like sleeping without him—though she hadn’t exactly told him that, yet, in words. Still, she thought that maybe he knew. They took turns sleeping at one apartment or the other. Mulder had hardly ever used his bed before they’d started their relationship. Now it got used at least three nights out of the week.

In the corner, Mulder’s bag was packed with fresh clothes. It rested next to Scully’s already packed bag. They were used to living out of suitcases, so it seemed that each of them almost always had a bag packed for one reason or another.

When Mulder came back, he practically leapt onto the bed. Or, maybe more realistically, he collapsed. As soon as he was flat on the bed, he lie there, face down, for a moment like he might choose to sleep with his head beside Scully’s hip and his legs half hanging off the mattress. Scully smiled to herself and reached to scratch her fingers through his hair. He hummed his approval and raised up. He hooked an arm over her. He pulled her body slightly toward him, though not with enough force to move her. He rested his head on her thigh for a second and then nuzzled the space between her legs.

“Mulder…no,” Scully said. It was hard to tell him no, but it was time. “It’s late. You’re exhausted. I know it. And I’m tired and—we’ve got a busy day tomorrow.” 

A hint of a pout crossed Mulder’s features. He kissed her thigh in response, but he did raise himself up and crawled toward her, righting himself in the bed. 

“I know you’re exhausted,” Scully said, her chest aching with an odd wave of tenderness that she felt simply from looking at Mulder. She brushed her fingers against his face. She brushed his hair back. He caught her hand and pulled it around to kiss it. He held her eyes with his own—his eyes said he was almost exhausted enough to be unable to rationally handle the feeling.

“How about a nightcap for you then,” Mulder teased. “And a last meal for me?” 

Scully laughed to herself at his teasing.

“It won’t be that bad, Mulder,” Scully said. “You’ll see. You’re just being dramatic. It’s just my mother and maybe Missy. And—I’m not sure that mom hasn’t had some suspicion before.” 

“She’s going to be looking at me like she knows I’m violating her youngest daughter,” Mulder said. 

“We’re only telling them that we’re dating,” Scully said. “If you’re this nervous now, are you even going to be able to handle it when we tell them about the alien? Or am I going to have to face everyone alone with that news?” 

“Are you kidding? My mother won’t be able to think of anything except ‘grandbaby’ from the moment you tell her about the alien,” Mulder said. “You’ll be put on a pedestal so high that I’ll never get you down.” 

Scully knew that he was teasing, and she knew that much of his anxiety was for show—but he was really at least a little nervous. So was she, after all. There was something about announcing their love, for all the world to know and judge, that was a little nerve wracking.

Scully kissed Mulder, and she accepted when he pulled her into his arms to hold her and to deepen the kiss.

“Not just dating, Scully,” he said when the kiss broke. 

“Almost living together,” Scully offered.

“More than that,” Mulder said.

“In love,” Scully said. She nuzzled her face against him and returned to kiss him again, soaking up any remaining afterglow there may be from earlier and basking in the intimacy that she’d never even imagined, before, she would enjoy so completely. 

“Hopelessly devoted,” Mulder said. There was a hint of teasing there, but Scully knew it was the words that he found humorous, not the sentiment. 

“If you lead with that, Mulder, I don’t think my mother will have any problem at all with our relationship,” Scully said. 

“The question is,” Mulder said, “will she allow us to sleep in the same room?” 

“Probably not,” Scully said. “Which is why we have to sleep now, Mulder.” 

“Why’s that?” He asked. She saw some mischief in his tired eyes. He wanted her to say it. That was one of the things he wouldn’t say—one of the things that he was reluctant to confess—but he craved her words of validation and need. 

She would give that to him, simply because he gave her so much. She smirked at him.

“Because, Mulder. You know I can’t sleep without you.” 

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AN: I hope you enjoyed this. I’m not sure if there’s any interest in actually doing some of the family interaction. 

I’m still fairly new to The X-Files and the fandom, so I’m still introducing myself with all my stories. I’m only in season 3. If you haven’t read any of my other MSR stories, I have a few stories that can all be read separately, or they can be read as all belonging to the same universe. I’m playing loosely with canon and I’m absolutely going to cherry pick what I want to keep and change for my own stories. I may, later, write a few stories that go in between the ones I’ve already written, but here they are in current chronological order.

“A Light in the Darkness,” “Stay, “The Cross,” “Aubrey,” “Irresistible,” “The Lake House,” and “The Holinshed Ghost.” 

I hope you enjoyed this piece. If you have time, comments and reviews are always appreciated, as they let me know that I’m not just writing in a vacuum. Please let me know if there’s any interest in exploring the family dynamics (just for fun) a little.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Thank you so much for reading! I’ve decided to do a bit of their interactions with their families. They’re going to the Scully household first, and then to the Mulder household. I do have to beg some forgiveness and suspension of disbelief. As I said before, I’m only in Season 3 viewing, and I don’t pretend to have some great grasp on their family members’ characters. I can only write them as I imagine they would be. I hope you enjoy! 

I just want to say a sincere thanks for the comments that I received. I woke up to them this morning and, honestly, they’ve made my whole day! I’m already working on the next piece to follow this one (which, I hope, is a really sweet addition to being in the Scully household). I just want to thank you all! I super appreciate it! 

I hope you enjoy the chapter. Let me know what you think! 

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Maggie Scully had had a difficult year. She’d lost her husband suddenly. Then, her daughter had disappeared. Mulder forgave Maggie for giving up on her daughter and accepting her disappearance as a sign of her death. He forgave her for purchasing the tombstone—the image of which felt like it was forever burned into his mind. He even forgave her for believing that it was best to let Scully go when she’d been in the coma. He forgave her for all of those things because he knew that everyone grieved in their own way, and he assumed that she had only been doing what she had to do out of a sense of self-preservation—and the desire to do what she hoped was best for Scully.

Maybe one of the greatest reasons he forgave her is because she’d never told him how he should mourn Scully and, without knowing how deep his feelings for Scully actually ran, she still encouraged him to feel his feelings, to grieve how he must, and to hold onto his belief that Scully would be returned to him—to them. She’d never turned him away from any space that was only meant for family. And, when Scully had come out of her coma, she’d never questioned his need to care for Scully, nor had she tried to insist that she was far better—which she maybe would have been—for the job.

Although the thought of confessing their relationship and deep devotion to others was daunting, mostly because something deep inside Mulder feared that people would tell Scully that she could do better than him, and that they might be right, Mulder recognized that Maggie Scully had always been his ally. He also realized—or, rather, he fully accepted—that Maggie Scully was about to become one of the most influential people in his personal life. If they married, she would be his mother in law. And, even if they didn’t, she was the mother of the woman that he’d promised to spend his life with. She would be the grandmother of their child, currently not much bigger than a blueberry and hidden safely away from the world, and she would be the grandmother to any other children they may ever commit to having. Scully was from an Irish Catholic background, after all, and thought they hadn’t discussed it, Mulder wouldn’t be surprised if she had plans for their family to grow in the future.

At least Maggie Scully had always been an ally.

Mulder knew that their alien understood nothing of subtlety or secrecy. There was no way to explain to it that Scully was not ready to divulge her pregnancy. She wanted to wait, and Mulder absolutely respected her privacy and her choice to wait until she was comfortable sharing the news. That wasn’t going to happen for at least a few weeks. 

For now, they planned to tell Scully’s mother—and her older sister—about their committed relationship. They planned to spend the night there, and then they would travel to tell Mulder’s parents about the relationship. It was going to be impossible to get the alien to cooperate and to neither plague Scully with the fatigue that had her napping nearly every time things got still nor the nausea that sometimes overtook her.

Mulder had been as proactive as he could be about things. Before he’d even brought their bags into the house, he’d entered with Scully and offered the bottle of wine that they’d brought for Maggie and Missy. At the same time, he’d also offered the bottle of ginger ale that they’d brought, apologizing immediately that it seemed as though Scully was getting over a touch of a stomach bug that had circulated around the bureau. A stomach bug, Mulder figured, would explain any queasiness with which Scully had to contend, and it would also provide her with an excuse to pass up any alcoholic beverages that were offered to her as a nightcap.

The first little bit of their visit was simple and practical. Mulder brought in their bags. When all four of the children had lived under one roof, the girls had shared one room, and the boys had shared another. Now, Melissa, who still lived with her mother, had taken over one room and the other room had been converted into a guest room. Scully would sleep there and Mulder had offered to take the couch, promising her mother that he was more comfortable on a couch than he was in a bed unless, of course, Scully was sleeping with him—but he hadn’t added that last part out of respect for Maggie’s possible dislike of such practices.

The first part of their visit had involved hugs around Maggie’s best efforts to nurture the daughter she believed was suffering from a rogue stomach virus. In the interest of keeping up with their ruse, Scully had allowed her mother to feel her forehead, offer her ginger ale over ice, and dote on her a bit. 

Conversation, beyond the first words that felt almost frantic as they came through the door and sorted out the must-be-handled-immediately-situations, hadn’t really started until Maggie had invited Mulder and Scully to sit at the table in their sunroom and enjoy the refreshments that she’d put out in anticipation of their arrival. She’d purchased a wide variety of baked goods that she thought might make them feel welcome. Melissa had emerged, from her room, then, to join them. 

“Fox—it’s so good to see you under positive circumstances,” Maggie declared after she was satisfied that coffee, and tea in Melissa’s case, had been served all the way around. “I never got the chance to thank you, personally, for taking such good care of Dana.” 

Under the table, Scully felt brave enough to sneak a hand over and search for Mulder’s hand. She squeezed it before she returned her hand to the table and picked the muffin that Mulder was certain she wanted to devour, but was restraining herself to eat slowly under the guise of her so-called stomach troubles.

“Taking care of Scully was my pleasure,” Mulder offered. He smiled at Scully when he caught her looking at him. “It’s something I’d do—anytime she needed it.” 

“Mom—you remember that Mulder prefers not to be called Fox?” Scully reminded gently.

“I know,” Maggie admitted. “It’s just so impersonal.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Scully countered. “I think—any name can be as…as personal as any other name. It’s what you call someone and—how you call them that. It’s more about the feeling behind the name.” 

The alien, also, was responsible for some occasional mood swings in Scully, but Mulder wouldn’t dare to point that out to her—mostly because he was certain that doing so would unleash an entirely different mood swing. Under the table, he eased a hand over and rested it on her leg, drawing her back from any unexplained and possibly heated feelings.

They’d discussed what to call each other in-depth. Dana and Fox? Mulder and Scully? They’d tried out the names like they were testing flavors on their tongues. They’d made love with both of them, filling an entire afternoon with nothing more than a sort of experiment in intimacy. They’d found what worked for them—what felt best—but they understood it may be one of the things about their relationship that others didn’t fully understand. 

They’d come hoping that everything—absolutely everything—about their relationship would be embraced by both their families, but they’d also come willing to fight, as well, if they were met with any kind of unexpected and serious opposition. Unfortunately, Scully’s emotions ran a little closer to the surface, these days, and her defensiveness came through with a hint of unintended aggression in her voice. 

Maggie Scully looked entirely unbothered. She knew her children, though, and it was unlikely that this was her first encounter with Scully’s expression of frustration. Maggie smiled warmly at her daughter.

“I understand, Dana,” Maggie assured her. “I only meant that—I prefer using first names. That’s why I asked Fox to call me Maggie.” 

“It’s fine,” Mulder assured anyone listening. “Really,” he pressed when Scully looked at him for added assurance. 

“So—to what do we owe the honor of your visit?” Maggie asked, relaxing with her coffee. “Is it something with work?” 

Mulder could feel it. Maggie was curious about their visit—it had come, like his explanation to his own mother, with nothing more than the declaration that they would like to come for a visit and stay for a night. Mulder could tell that Maggie sensed there was something more that had prompted the visit than a sudden desire to run away for the night.

Scully looked at Mulder like she was asking permission with her eyes. He offered her a soft smile and nodded his head. She found his hand with hers, again, under the table.

“Actually, Mom, it’s not about work at all. Mulder and I…we wanted to tell you that…in the past few months, we’ve been seeing each other. Outside of work.” 

Mulder did not miss that Maggie’s eyes widened a second before they returned to their normal size. He didn’t miss that her smile was strained. He was fairly good at reading most people and Maggie Scully was not a closed book. She purposefully relaxed, though, and held back from jumping to any conclusions. 

“I know that Fox has been taking especially good care of you since you weren’t well,” Maggie offered.

Scully laughed to herself—a short burst of frustration, more than anything, and Mulder squeezed her hand in his.

“No, Mom,” Dana said. “I mean—we’ve been seeing each other. Romantically.”

Maggie fully relaxed. She smiled, sincerely. Mulder let his eyes dart over to Melissa. She was studying both of them, a furrow between her brows. Melissa claimed a certain amount of clairvoyance and, though Mulder didn’t know if her abilities were real or imagined, he was a little uncomfortable at the thought that she might be able to read deeper into things than they wanted. In particular, he hoped that, if she could detect some things that they weren’t saying, she would at least respect her sister’s right to privacy.

“You mean you’re dating?” Maggie asked. She looked pleased. Her expression untangled some of the knots inside of Mulder. 

“It’s a little more than that, Mom,” Scully said. 

Maggie actually looked at Mulder, then, for help. He accepted that it was his turn to proverbially come to bat. He raised Scully’s hand from under the table, letting Maggie see that their fingers were knitted tightly together, and he wrapped his other hand around Scully’s as well, to make it clear that he wasn’t releasing his hold on her or withdrawing the comfort she was seeking. He rested their hands on the table.

“Mrs. Scully…” he started.

“Maggie, please,” Maggie interrupted.

“Maggie,” Mulder corrected, “what Scully’s trying to say is that things have moved quickly for us. Even we know how quickly they’ve moved in the perception of the outside world. But we’ve found that…we’ve admitted that…” Mulder paused and wished that they’d rehearsed this a bit more instead of being certain that both of them, who were so used to talking about difficult things, would be able to say what they wanted without problem. 

“We love each other,” Scully said. The quality of her voice sounded like she was ripping off a verbal band-aid, but as soon as it was out, she sighed like she felt some relief. She smiled, too, to herself, and she shared the smile with Mulder.

She shared her relief with him, too. 

“We love each other,” Mulder echoed, without hesitation. “Very much.” 

If they had been worried about her approval, that worry dissipated almost immediately. Maggie smiled broadly and sincerely. 

“Oh—that’s—it’s wonderful! I mean…I may have suspected that there was something there, but…this really is wonderful. For both of you.” 

“You have a strong connection,” Melissa interjected.

Mulder felt Scully tense. She and her sister had a great relationship—most of the time. Sometimes, though, they were simply sisters who couldn’t be more different if they tried. 

“That’s part of the whole being in love, Missy,” Scully challenged, clearly relaxed, now, with everything except her sister’s scrutiny.

Melissa’s face only relaxed a little from the intensity she’d been wearing. 

“No, I mean—it’s something beyond that. It’s like I can sense a link between you. Connecting you.” 

“We’re holding hands,” Mulder offered, wishing that he had the ability to communicate to Melissa, telepathically, that he would do or buy anything for her that would make her simply congratulate her sister and vanish. He wasn’t sure, though, that Melissa’s telepathic or empathic abilities extended that far.

“There’s definitely something connecting the two of you,” Melissa said, ignoring both Mulder’s words and his attempt to transmit information to her. Maggie, however, seemed able to pick up on Mulder’s message.

“Melissa, sweetheart,” Maggie said, drawing Melissa’s attention. Almost immediately, Melissa’s head turned away from them and her face relaxed. She smiled, sincerely. “Maybe their connection is just—some kind of underlying proof that this relationship is good for both of them.”

“I’m sure that’s what it is,” Melissa agreed quickly. “I knew. I’ve known for a while. I sensed it.” 

Scully rolled her eyes, but she didn’t say anything. Melissa wasn’t bothered, though. She stood up from her seat and quickly wrapped her arms around Scully. Scully released Mulder’s hand to return the embrace as well as her position allowed. 

“I still say that your connection is unusually strong,” Melissa offered. “Congratulations to both of you! I’m sorry that—I already had plans.” She offered a hug to Mulder and he accepted it because he felt like, in this situation, that was the thing to do. “I’m meeting some friends. But—I’ll see you before you leave.” 

Melissa bid them all farewell, and she left them alone with Maggie. Maggie was smiling, and she wasn’t trying to hide the pleased expression. She continued to look back and forth between them—first to Mulder, and then back to Scully. With Melissa gone, Mulder felt he could really relax and, as he sunk back into his chair, Scully followed suit—finally giving into her desire to finish eating the muffin she’d started earlier. 

“Well—tell me everything!” Maggie demanded. “I mean—I know how you met and, I know that you’re brave enough to use some pretty serious words to describe this new relationship. But—what else can you tell me about…about this well…relationship? Will it change anything about your job?” 

Scully, with her mouth full of muffin, looked at Mulder. She passed the inquiry to him as surely as if she’d actually declared, verbally, that he was welcome to take it from here. 

He didn’t care. His earlier nervousness was gone. They were over the hump. Maggie Scully clearly approved of their relationship, at least at its most basic level, and Mulder could talk all day, if that’s what she needed, about how much he loved her daughter. 

“It doesn’t really change anything about the job,” Mulder offered. “I mean we’re both still working in the same department, and they aren’t going to transfer us for a relationship. But it does change the dynamic, a little, about how we work together.” 

“Do you want another cookie, Fox? Something else? We’ll have dinner later, but…” Mulder accepted the cookie offered to him. Maggie didn’t ask if Scully wanted anything. Instead, she simply selected another muffin from the tray and, reaching across the table, she placed it on her daughter’s plate. “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better, Dana,” she mused, before turning back to look at Mulder. “What do you mean it changes the dynamic?” 

Mulder cleared his throat. He smiled at Scully before looking at Maggie and nibbling at the cookie that he’d accepted more because feeding people pleased Maggie than he did because he wanted it. 

“Well, we’ve always looked out for each other,” Mulder said. “Taken care of each other. But I think, if it’s even possible, we’ve gotten even more watchful of each other. There seems to be—a lot more at stake these days.” 

Maggie smiled to herself.

“That’s wonderful, especially in a job like yours,” she said. “I worry about you—both of you. So much. But—your profession aside, I think it’s important for any couple to be dedicated to caring for each other.” 

Mulder looked at Scully. She was watching him, her lips half-curled in a smile. She had the biggest blue eyes when she watched him like that. He felt his chest flood with warmth. He held back the desire to reach for her—to kiss her, just for looking at him like that. Just for being so beautiful. 

“We are dedicated,” he offered.

“Hopelessly devoted,” Scully said, her smile cracking a little more. “You could say.” 

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AN: I’m working on the next piece already. It will be another chapter in the Scully household (with some very sweet moments, in my opinion). They’ll be going to the Mulder household after that. And, as a “sneak peek,” after this story, we’ll be beginning to tackle “Endgame” stuff in my next addition to the universe. 

I hope you enjoyed! Please let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

AN: I posted Chapter 2 earlier. If you missed it, please make sure you read it before you read this one. I normally would not post two chapters in one day, but I was really feeling so motivated and invigorated by all your lovely comments that I wanted to take as much advantage of that giddy feeling as I possibly could! 

I do hope that you enjoy the chapter! Please let me know what you think! 

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Mulder was rudely awakened in the middle of the night—not long, really, after he felt like he’d fallen asleep, which was something he hadn’t done very much lately—by a heavy mass dropping down on him. He nearly fell off the couch as he struggled for breath and to get some sense of what had happened. Laughter—he heard hushed laughter as he came into wakefulness. The weight on his body moved around and he grabbed at it. 

“Scully?” He asked. The quiet laughter again. She laughed a little more freely than Scully did.

“One of them,” Melissa said, moving her weight off of him. “Geez—Mulder, I’m sorry. I forgot you were down here. I was just going to take my shoes off.” 

“You’re just getting home?” Mulder asked into the darkness. She shushed him. 

“Hey—I’m sorry, I’m gonna let you get back to sleep,” Melissa said. “Hey—hey listen, Mulder…about Dana…I’m happy for you. Both of you. But—take care of her, alright?” 

Mulder’s pulse was returning to normal. Now that his mind fully understood what had happened, and what was happening, his body no longer felt like it needed to be on high alert while it solved nocturnal mysteries. 

“I’ll do my best,” Mulder offered, feeling the sincerity of Melissa’s request. “Always.” 

“It’s just—she can sometimes push people away and act like things…like they don’t bother her,” Melissa said. “But she deserves someone who can get through that and understand that.”

“I understand a lot about Scully,” Mulder offered. “I’m learning more every day, and I…I look forward to learning everything I can.” 

“Then you’ve got my blessing, or whatever, for what it’s worth,” Melissa said. 

Mulder smiled to himself. 

“Thanks, Melissa,” Mulder responded.

“Missy,” Melissa said. 

“Missy,” Mulder echoed. 

“Goodnight, Mulder.”

“Goodnight, Missy.” 

Mulder listened as the eldest Scully daughter, now carrying her shoes, made her way through the house in the darkness and made her way to the stairs. He listened as she mounted the stairs, and he closed his eyes, sinking back into the pillow he’d been given and sighing. He was tired, and the couch was more comfortable than he’d imagined it might be. It wasn’t long before he was floating, again, drifting closer and closer to sleep.

He jumped when pressure on his chest and shoulder roused him once more. He was shushed as he sucked in a breath, shocked by the presence of someone else jarring him out of his sleep. 

“Mulder,” he heard his name hissed into the darkness and, for half a second, he believed that Melissa had come back with some other word to him about his relationship with her little sister. He realized, though, that the voice didn’t belong to Melissa at all. 

“Scully? You OK?” Mulder sat up somewhat. Scully was stooping next to him.

“Mulder—I can’t sleep,” Scully said. 

Mulder smiled to himself and the smile broke into something more. He laughed, low in his throat. His feelings bubbled up in his chest over something so simple and sincere. 

“I love you, Scully,” he whispered to her.

“I love you, too,” she whispered back. “But I don’t see what that has to do with this.” 

Mulder could make out her form, even if he couldn’t quite make out her face. He reached his hand up and touched her face. 

“What do you want me to do, Scully?” Mulder asked. “Whatever you ask me to do, I’ll do it? You want me to—come upstairs with you?”

Scully sighed. 

“No,” she said, obviously conflicted. “It’ll look like I’m practically defying my mother. I know she wouldn’t approve.”

“Come here,” Mulder said, rearranging himself on the couch. “Let me hold you. Just a minute, Scully.” 

“Mulder, there isn’t enough room,” she protested.

“Clearly you haven’t had enough practice fitting two people on a couch,” Mulder teased. “We’ll work on that. Here—lie on top of me.” 

“I’ll crush you,” she said. The hint of amusement in her tone let him know that even she wasn’t foolish enough to believe that.

“It’ll be worth it,” Mulder promised. He helped her maneuver until she was on top of him, chest to chest, with the blanket over her. She kissed him, with enough feeling behind it to make the entire endeavor—the whole parent fiasco—worth it. And then she snuggled down with her head against his chest. Mulder knew that she must have heard his heart skip a beat at the sound of her satisfied sigh.

There was very little in the world that had meant, to him, as much as the feeling of her in his arms. He rubbed her back, gently, while she rested on top of him. 

“Are you OK?” She asked, basically breathing out the words. 

“Perfect,” Mulder said. “I’ve always liked you on top of me, Scully.” 

She hissed her disapproval of the innuendo, but laughed quietly—her body shaking his. 

“I’m so tired, Mulder,” she whined. He knew, as well as she did, that the alien was zapping her energy reserves in the way that only a growing baby could. Mulder only continued to rub her back in response.

“Shhh,” he said quietly. “Close your eyes. Get some sleep.” 

“You must be exhausted,” Scully said. 

“I imagine they’re entirely different kinds of tired, Scully,” Mulder mused. “Close your eyes. We’ll sleep a little.”

“And then my mother comes in to see this?” Scully asked. In response, she raised up enough to kiss Mulder’s chest through his t-shirt before she returned to her position and nuzzled into him. 

“We’re dressed,” Mulder offered. “It’s—practically innocent. One of us will wake up, Scully, in a couple of hours. There will be plenty of time to send you back upstairs. Close your eyes—or you’ll be miserable, tomorrow, when we got to see my parents.” 

Mulder closed his eyes. The weight of Scully on top of him was a welcomed feeling, and he felt soothed, once again, until he practically felt like he was floating toward sweet unconsciousness and promising dreams of Scully—his sweetest and most favorite dreams.

“Mulder?” 

“Mmmm?” 

“I love you.”

Mulder smiled to himself.

“I love you, too, Scully. Get some sleep.” 

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Scully had fully intended to leave the couch and return to the guest bedroom before her mother woke. She had expected to sleep lightly and, in sleeping lightly, to maintain the ability to wake herself in a few hours. She had expected that Mulder would wake, since he rarely slept very deeply, to send her back upstairs.

Instead, when she’d woken and looked around, it had been fairly light in the house. She’d slept so heavily that it had even taken her a moment to remember where she was. Looking around, her eyes had fallen on the face of her mother, sitting in a nearby chair, smiling at her.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Maggie had said in greeting. “I’ll get you some coffee. Why don’t we take it on the porch, Dana?” 

Now Dana was sitting across from her mother in the soft chairs on the sunroom, a coffee cup in hand, wondering how much of the caffeine it would take to adversely affect her baby, and feeling slightly embarrassed about being caught sleeping, with absolute abandon, draped across Mulder’s body.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Scully offered, finally.

“What for, Dana?” Her mother asked, smiling and feigning cluelessness. 

Scully sighed.

“I know how you feel about—public displays of affection.” Scully decided to take the safest route that she could to explain what her mother had witnessed.

Maggie smiled to herself and sipped her coffee.

“That was always a bit more your father than it was me,” Maggie offered. She made eye contact with Scully. “I’m no prude, Dana. Still—the only thing I saw this morning was…two people sleeping together on the couch. And that’s all they were doing. Sleeping. Did I misinterpret something?” 

“No,” Scully said, shaking her head and feeling her face run warm.

“I like to think I’m open minded,” Maggie said. “And I’m—aware of how things work. I’m a little old-fashioned, Dana, but give me some credit.” Scully nodded at her. She didn’t feel able to say more. Sometimes, she could feel reduced to being practically twelve years old in her parents’ presence. Maggie smiled to herself. “What I did see—or what I thought I saw—were two people who love each other enough that, in finding themselves in the same house for the night, they couldn’t resist being close to one another. Is that right?” 

Scully’s stomach twisted and she tried to very nonchalantly take in the air that she needed to try to soothe it. She swallowed against the salty flavor that suddenly came to her mouth. She begged, silently, the tiny and unaware life form inside of her not to do this—not today. Not right now.

“Yes,” she breathed out to her mother.

Maggie was smiling at her. She looked completely relaxed. She looked genuinely happy. 

“The one thing that I’ve wanted for you, Dana, more than anything else is that you’re happy. And part of that happiness, I always imagined, was that you would find someone you loved. Someone who loved you back.”

Scully put her coffee mug on the nearby table. Maybe the alien didn’t care for her choice to drink caffeinated coffee—or maybe it was simply waking up and becoming aware that she was stirring. 

“I know,” Scully said to her mother.

“You told me last night that—you were in love with each other,” Maggie said. 

“We are,” Scully confirmed.

“You told me you love him very much.”

“I do.”

“That’s what you told me,” Maggie said, “but this morning, I got to see it. Do you understand what I’m saying, Dana?” 

“I think I do,” Scully said, trying to focus on her mother’s words and the feeling that she knew was behind them—the feeling she could feel with the part of herself that wasn’t focused on what was taking place in her body. Scully’s stomach rolled violently and she couldn’t hold it back any longer. She got up quickly. “I’m sorry…I…” she stammered. That was all she could get out, though—all she dared to say—before she simply covered her mouth and dismissed herself, as quickly as she could move, from the sunroom and her mother’s presence.

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Scully had nearly beaten the door down and Mulder had gotten out of the shower faster than he’d left a shower in a long time. At home, he could have just told her to come in. He could have even helped her—held back her hair—unashamed of his nudity. Here, he traded places with her quickly so that Maggie wouldn’t worry she’d seen him in nothing more than a towel, and he’d only come back to offer her some support once he’d thrown on his clothes.

Melissa had been with her, though, at that point, and she’d shooed Mulder away with the promise that it wouldn’t be the first time that she and Dana had kept the other company while they’d been sick. He’d wanted to insist, but Scully had sent him away, promising that she was fine, despite the fact that she seemed more than content to have her head in a toilet bowl.

“Would you like some breakfast, Fox?” Maggie asked when Mulder made it downstairs. She put a cup of coffee on the table, clearly indicating that she expected him to take a seat, and he did what she asked without actually requiring her to make the request. 

“I’m fine,” Mulder said. 

“Nonsense,” Maggie said quickly. “How do you eat your eggs?” 

“Any way is fine,” Mulder said. He quickly realized that she’d already prepared at least some food, because a moment later she was serving him eggs and toast. He thanked her, and he praised the scrambled eggs, perhaps, a little more profusely than most people praised eggs. 

“It’s nice to have a full house—even if it is just for a short time. Dana and Missy can eat when they come down,” Maggie said, sitting across from Mulder with her own plate. 

“I don’t know if Scully’s going to feel like breakfast,” Mulder responded. “Stomach virus.” 

Maggie smiled at her plate of eggs.

“Toast will be good for her stomach virus,” Maggie offered. Mulder’s own stomach rolled, slightly, with the tone of Maggie’s voice. “I hope you were—at least able to finish your shower?” 

Mulder was thankful for the change of topic, no matter how temporary it might be. 

“I was ready to get out,” Mulder said. “I’m sorry about—this morning or…last night.” 

“No apologies necessary,” Maggie said. “Given the—stomach virus this morning, I’m assuming that Dana didn’t feel well last night, and you were…comforting her?” 

“Something like that,” Mulder said. “I tried to check on her just now, but Melissa’s with her.” 

Maggie smiled at him. She nodded her head.

“I asked her to sit with Dana,” Maggie said. “I thought it might be nice if you and I had a moment to talk.” 

He was pretty sure that he was actually sweating. He had thought, getting out of the shower, that the house was cool. Now it felt practically like a sauna. 

“Each one of my children is different. Children are like that, Fox. They’re all different.” 

Mulder wondered if Melissa’s so-called clairvoyance had come from her mother. Thoughts of his own child were making him feel as queasy as Scully. 

“Dana— deserves someone that she can love unconditionally,” Maggie said. “She’s always needed someone that could openly love her and—comfort her. She deserves that.”

“Mrs. Scully—Maggie—believe me when I tell you that, to me, Scully deserves everything she wants and needs…and then some.” 

“I’m glad you believe that,” Maggie said. “If you give her a chance, Dana will return the favor tenfold. She’s always been a natural caretaker.”

“I know that,” Mulder said, smiling to himself. “She looks out for me. And—I love your daughter. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure that she’s taken care of. I can promise you that.” 

“Good,” Maggie said with determination, almost like dropping a gavel on the conversation. Mulder smiled to himself, pleased with the warm feeling that settled over the knots in his stomach. He’d won the approval, he felt, of the Scully matriarch. “Because, Fox?” Mulder’s stomach tightened suddenly, and his pulse picked up. He made eye contact with her. She was smirking and, at that moment, she looked so much like Scully that he could imagine he was seeing a glimpse into his future. He hummed in question, prompting her to continue. “There will be other stomach viruses.” 

Mulder held Maggie’s eyes for a moment. Maggie Scully had already proven one thing to him, though. She was an ally.

Mulder smiled to himself and nodded.

“I’m sure you’re right,” he agreed. “And—provided that Scully doesn’t object? I’ll be there for those, too.” 

Maggie smiled, clearly pleased with his dedication and devotion to her daughter, and got up to refill his coffee.

“Good,” she said. “Now—when can I expect you both to come back for another visit and stay a little longer?” 

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AN: I really hope you enjoyed! I do beg suspension of disbelief and a little forgiveness as the “family” characters are very much my versions of what I think they would be. I hope that hasn’t lessened your enjoyment too much.

I thank you again, for reading. Please let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Here we are, another little piece. This is on the road between the Scully and Mulder households. I intend to work on the Mulder household scenes today. 

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! 

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Mulder decided that he wouldn’t tell Scully that her mother and sister had, very likely, already realized that an alien life form was among them whose presence was simply being kept secret. Neither of them came out with the information, and Mulder respected that they had decided to do exactly what he wished to do—give Scully the opportunity to share the news in whatever way she thought was best, at a moment when she felt secure doing so.

Scully had not felt well for much of the morning and afternoon. Under the pretended guise of the stomach virus, she had allowed herself to be doted on a little. Maggie had clearly relished the opportunity to care for her youngest daughter for a bit. 

When they’d finally left for Mulder’s family’s home—already promising to return, soon, for something like a full weekend when, Mulder suspected, Scully would be ready to share the news of their little one with her family—they’d stopped along the way to make the purchase of another bottle of wine, another bottle of ginger ale, and food at a small dive that they passed along the way.

The drive-in was the kind of place where you ordered from a restaurant that was little more than a kitchen, received your meal through a window, and ate in your car or at one of the three splintery picnic tables that sat in the sun surrounding the drive-in. Mulder insisted that Scully wait in the car, parked in the shade, and he went to get their food, bringing everything in two short trips to keep from spilling their drinks.

“We’re in luck,” Mulder said. “They had ginger ale. This is your burger—I got nothing on it, Scully. Meat, cheese, and nothing else. So—hopefully there’s nothing there that can offend the alien.” 

Scully groaned at him, but she accepted the food when he passed it over and thanked him for his efforts, if nothing else. She hadn’t eaten a bite of anything since she’d woken up—refusing even Maggie’s offer of toast or even plain crackers. Mulder hoped that, once Scully bit into the food, the part of her brain that had proved to be ravenously hungry lately would overtake the part that was nauseous and never wanted her to eat again.

It made Mulder’s own gut react in uncomfortable ways when Scully didn’t feel well. He wasn’t an uncompassionate person, by any means, but he’d never experienced the level of compassion, for any person, that he had for Scully. He physically responded to whatever he perceived her as feeling. He knew that it was worse for her when she felt sick, but he was happy to see when things calmed each day. Today, though, things were lingering longer than they had on other days. 

“Is it—good?” Mulder asked when Scully had finally bitten the burger. He was really hoping for one of her groans of satisfaction before she devoured the food. It was bread, meat, and cheese. It had limited opportunity to be either good or bad, really. Still, she didn’t respond like Mulder had hoped. She chewed through the bite she’d taken with a look of absolute disgust on her features. 

“I don’t want this,” she said, putting it back on the paper wrapper she had spread out on her legs.

“Eat the fries, Scully,” Mulder said, picking up the bag of fries that she’d already taken from him, earlier, and offering it to her again. “This isn’t the time to try one of those crazy Hollywood diets where you exist off air and ginger ale for days, OK?” 

Scully stared at him. Mulder watched her out of the corner of his eye. She was angry or, at the very least, she was frustrated enough that the emotion bubbled out as something akin to anger. He knew, by now, what Scully’s face looked like when she was internally seething about something. If he made eye contact with her, it would be worse. 

Mulder could readily admit that, sometimes, he was so focused on his own problems, thoughts, and concerns, that he wasn’t very good at being empathetic. As he sat there, avoiding eye contact with Scully while he watched her out of his peripheral vision and ate his own food, he started to think a little less about how much he didn’t like when Scully didn’t feel well, how much he wanted her to eat, and how much he was dreading the whole trip to see his parents, and he shifted gears to think about Scully and how she might be feeling about the whole “tell the parents we’re in love” adventure that they were on together.

“Are you nervous?” He asked, after he had a moment to consider things. Scully was practically pouting as she stared at the burger she’d only bitten once. “Scully—I know the alien can make you sick. But, even when it looks like I’m not paying attention, I notice patterns. It’s almost two thirty, Scully. By now, the alien usually has you hungry enough to eat that burger, your fries, and half of my fries. And I’d probably go back up there and order you the strawberry milkshake that I started to order you as a surprise. But right now, you don’t seem to want any of that. So—is it really just the alien or, are you nervous?” 

He waited, patiently, for her to answer. 

“Your family is a lot different than mine, Mulder,” Scully said finally. “You’re—their only son. And some mothers—and I don’t know your mother well enough to know how she’d feel— but some mothers feel like, when a child enters into a serious, devoted relationship, she’s losing her child. With what happened with your sister…”

“You’re worried that my mother will resent you because—you’re taking me away?” Mulder asked. With everything inside him, he swallowed back the desire to laugh. He had feared the reaction of Scully’s family, and he hadn’t shared some of the visions, which he now realized were completely irrational, about how they would react and what that might mean for the relationship. He’d had visions of Scully’s family forbidding their relationship. He’d had visions of them convincing her that she was better off without him—even with the alien. They were irrational, and born entirely of fear of losing something precious to him, and Mulder knew that. He’d even known that when his subconscious mind had created them, and that’s why he hadn’t shared them with Scully. He wasn’t gong to make fun of her for any concerns she might have—rational or otherwise. “Your mother didn’t seem to think I was taking you away.” 

“When there are four of you, you’re all different—unique—but you’re a unit. It’s like—there’s no real holding onto any of us because there’s always someone else to get through the same thing. Until Charles, at least.” 

“We don’t have to go,” Mulder said. 

“Mulder…” 

“I’m serious, Scully. If the choice is—go and have you upset enough that you don’t even eat for a day or…don’t go? We can call them and leave it on the machine. That’s how much this matters to me.” 

“How have they reacted to other people you’ve brought home?” 

Mulder’s gut clenched. He and Scully had only spoken vaguely about past relationships. Scully had confessed to him that, while she’d had several dating relationships, she’d never really taken them to a physical or advanced emotional level. The closest she’d come had been with her former Academy instructor, Jack Willis. She’d told Mulder that she’d even gone away for a weekend with him—started birth control, packed condoms, the whole nine yards, intending to follow in Melissa’s footsteps and let her hair down a little—but she’d ended up not going through with it. 

It wasn’t who she was. Her Catholic upbringing, though pushed back a great deal, thrown to the side occasionally, and purposefully buried from time to time, was still strong inside Scully. Without really meaning to, she’d held pretty strongly to her chastity. 

She’d confessed all of that, practically apologetically, before the first time they’d been together—while she’d, essentially, nervously been detailing for Mulder why it was that she probably wouldn’t be someone he found too sexually impressive, and why she understood if he wanted to change his mind. 

Scully was, in Mulder’s opinion, the sexiest woman alive. He’d been shocked at her confession, but he’d respected her—and he’d been moved by her choice to share with him something that she clearly considered quite special. Any expertise she’d lacked that day, she’d more than gained in the days and months following. With their first time out of the way, she’d been very eager to experience things with Mulder. Her embarrassed confession of innocence hadn’t made Mulder wish to turn her away in the slightest, like she’d feared it might. But it had certainly made him less than anxious to discuss his past and the fact that, quite unlike Scully, there had been a parade of faces he barely remembered and names he’d hardly known. It had made him not want to discuss the one serious relationship, either, that he’d had. 

“I—haven’t really brought anybody home,” Mulder said. It wasn’t a lie. Even his previous “serious” relationship hadn’t been serious in the same way his relationship with Scully was. This relationship was something unique. “Not like this. It’s a first for both families.” He waited a moment and, when Scully didn’t speak, he spoke again. “I mean what I said, Scully. We don’t have to go. We’ll go back to your place—or mine. We’ll watch a movie and talk about what we’re looking for in a house together. Tomorrow, we’ll spend the whole day looking at real estate.”

Scully laughed quietly. It was the first laugh Mulder had heard from her all day, though, and he would take it. He even laughed to himself, in response. He took a French fry from the bag and offered it to Scully. She stared at him, but some of that earlier anger and frustration was gone. 

“Come on,” he urged. “Before they get too cold and you won’t eat them on principle.” 

She took the French fry from his hand, and he dipped his hand back in the bag to fish another out. He’d feed her the whole bag if that’s what it took to get her to eat anything.

“This is serious, Mulder,” she said, chewing through the fry. 

“It is serious,” Mulder agreed. “You go on a hunger strike and there’s nothing for the alien to do but—reach out to me, telepathically, and beg not to be starved to death.” 

“If we’re serious about this relationship, then your parents deserve a formal announcement,” Scully said, ignoring him. “Especially if we’re going to tell them, in a couple of weeks, that there’s a baby.” 

“There are a lot of ifs in that statement, Scully,” Mulder said. “Should I be worried?” She frowned at him, and Mulder nodded his head. She’d comforted him for days about telling her family—patiently. She’d indulged him, allowing him to wallow in his worry and concern and, being on the other side of it, he realized that’s what he’d done. “When we tell my parents, I can tell you exactly what’s going to happen. My father—my father probably won’t say anything.” Mulder reached over and, sliding the ignored burger out of the way, he pressed his palm against Scully’s stomach just to rest it there. She looked at his hand. She focused on it. “I wish I could say that he’ll say something when we finally tell them about the alien, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t. My mother—she’s going to like the idea of this being a serious relationship. She’s going to love you—absolutely love you. And, in a few weeks, when we say something about the baby, she’s probably going to be so excited that you won’t be able to stand it, Scully. But the fact remains that this is exactly the same as it was when we talked about meeting your family. Do you remember what you told me? When I was nervous?”

Scully put her hand over his. She rubbed his fingers with her own, and he flexed his fingers to rub her stomach.

“I said it didn’t matter,” Scully said. 

“That’s right. It didn’t matter. We’re telling them because we want them to know. We want to share this with them. But that’s the whole thing—we want them to know what’s happening in our lives.”

“We’re not asking them to make decisions for us,” Scully offered, continuing to repeat some of the words she’d told him previously. Mulder smiled to himself.

“I wouldn’t give you up—give this up—without a fight,” Mulder said. 

“Me either,” Scully breathed out. 

“You tell me, Scully. Do we go home or do we go see my parents? I won’t be mad either way. The only thing I care about is—that it makes you happy.” 

Scully sighed beside him. She slipped her fingers under his, and he let her lift his hand. He smiled to himself when she kissed his fingers affectionately. She smiled at him, and he could see the relief on her features. He could feel the tension in the car dissipating.

“I’m sorry,” Scully said. “I guess I just…”

“Started thinking about everything that could possibly go wrong,” Mulder finished, for her. She hummed. He squeezed her hand now that she was holding his. “I understand. Remember?” 

She smiled to herself. 

“Maybe the important thing to remember is that—we wouldn’t be worried if it didn’t matter to us. If—this didn’t matter to us.” 

“You’re right, Scully.” 

“Mulder—I want to tell your parents. I want to give them the chance to be excited for us and, if they can’t be excited, I at least want them to know that we thought enough of them to tell them, formally, that we’re—doing this together.” 

Mulder pulled his hand back and nodded.

“OK,” he said. “Then that’s what we’ll do. Will you eat any of that? For the alien if not for me? He gets hungry first, you know—before even you do, and I know you should be hungry by now.” 

Scully smiled to herself. She picked the burger back up and took a small bite of it. Mulder watched her chew it. 

“You’re really gonna watch me eat it?” Scully asked.

“I already finished mine,” Mulder said. “Better?” 

“Could use some ketchup,” Scully admitted.

Mulder opened the car door.

“Ketchup, coming up,” he said, getting out the car. He stuck his head back in. “Anything else the alien might want while I’m going?” 

“You said strawberry milkshake,” Scully said. 

Mulder swallowed back his amusement.

“Don’t worry, I was going to get one of those anyway.”


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Here we are. This is the last piece of this one. 

I will fully admit that my grasp on the Mulder family is as limited as my grasp on the Scully family. I have to kind of shape what little bit I know of them into characters for myself. Of course, my main focus is how the interaction with other characters affects Mulder and Scully and their relationship.

All of that being said, we’ll see more of Mulder’s parents (and more of Scully’s) if you continue to read the stories in my little universe. 

I do hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think! 

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Scully’s father could have been described as “emotionally distant.” He was a good man, and they had all loved him, but he was a true “no nonsense” kind of man, and that often meant that he wasn’t very sharing when it came to emotions. Scully had accepted that, mostly because she had no other choice, but she thought that her father’s emotional distance probably made her all the more appreciative of the moments when Mulder let down walls and pretense and came to her with his true, sincere feelings. 

Scully’s mother had done her best to make up for some of her husband’s lack of emotional outpouring, and she’d tried to make sure that each of her four children knew that they were individual, important, and loved—but they were all still aware that they were four children and their mother was only one woman who also was responsible for keeping her husband happy and her household in shipshape. Maybe her mother hadn’t been perfect at all times—because nobody was—but Scully had always felt the extra little bit of care and affection that her mother tried to give each of them to compensate for anything their father might have accidentally withheld.

Scully had never met Mulder’s family before, so she had come into their home with very limited expectation. It wasn’t long after they’d arrived, though, that she’d settled into repeating, for herself, the mantra that “it didn’t matter.” If they didn’t approve of her, or Mulder’s relationship with her, or anything else, it simply didn’t matter. She and Mulder were dedicated to this relationship and making it work. They knew how they felt about each other—and their alien—and they weren’t letting anyone get in the way of that.

Mulder had warned her that his father wouldn’t have much to say, and he couldn’t have been more correct about that. Scully could fully admit that he hadn’t been mean or cruel in any way, but he’d simply been somewhat disinterested. He was emotionally distant, maybe, like Scully’s own father, but he came across as even more standoffish. 

When they’d first arrived, there had been the exchange of normal greetings and introductions. There had been lessons about things like where the bathroom was, and Mulder’s mother—who was insisting that Scully call her Teena—had offered them beverages. Small talk had mostly consisted of some vague questions about work, and some exchange of information about people that Scully assumed were either somewhat distant relatives or friends of Mulder’s parents. Teena had been the one to keep the small talk going, or to get it going again every time that it broke off. William had excused himself, early, from the conversation, and had gone outside. 

Mulder followed his father, not too long after William left the room, and Scully hadn’t had the opportunity to ask Mulder what had transpired while they were together.

What she did know was that the whole air surrounding Mulder had been markedly different when he’d come back inside, and a cloud of something surrounded him for the rest of the evening that had made her uncomfortable even from a distance.

At dinner, when they’d made the declaration that, not only were they in a relationship, but it was quite serious, and they were entirely devoted to one another, William had had very little to say. Teena had seemed pleased, if not overly so, and she’d continued the string of questions that she’d had running throughout the day for Scully to answer. By the time Scully had answered everything about her family, education, and beliefs, she felt like the only thing that Teena hadn’t asked for was a blood sample. 

Scully thought, as the evening wore on and she wondered exactly how early she could excuse herself with the need to sleep—thanks to her stomach virus, which Mulder had introduced upon them entering the house—that she understood some things about Mulder on a deeper level after sitting around his family’s dinner table. 

Whereas Scully’s mother sometimes went a little overboard in trying to make up for her husband’s emotional distance, Mulder’s mother did not quite do the same. There was a certain air of distance that surrounded every interaction—even the affectionate ones. Scully thought that, maybe, some of Mulder’s need to always search for the truth came from the fact that, in this household, there was the very real sensation that everything was somehow shrouded in mystery. 

Scully was thankful when it was finally late enough to retire without being too rude. She was truly exhausted after so many hours of attempting to make disingenuous small talk. More than that, though, she was concerned about the man that she loved.

Mulder’s parents hadn’t suggested that they sleep in separate rooms. As far as Scully knew, because she hadn’t explored their home, there wasn’t any other place where she might sleep. She didn’t mind that, at all, though, because she wanted time with Mulder and, really, she hated to try to sleep without him now. Furthermore, she would have hated, on her very first night of meeting Mulder’s parents, to get caught creeping around their house to go to Mulder’s bedroom in the middle of the night.

Mulder had taken the last shower, so Scully had been waiting for him, under the covers in her pajamas, when he’d entered the room in his pajamas. 

Her heart immediately went out to him. He looked exhausted. And, if she was being honest, he looked sad. It tugged at her chest. He’d had some dream of how this would go, and it hadn’t gone according to his vision. Scully responded the only way she knew how—the only way she’d planned to respond while she’d thought about what it was that Mulder might need. She threw back the covers to invite him into bed, and she held her arms out to him. Eagerly, he came to her. 

Letting him join her in the bed was one of the only ways that she could really hold Mulder the way that she wanted. She couldn’t wrap around him, standing up. She couldn’t guide his head to her chest to offer him the sound of her heartbeat in conjunction with the feeling of her fingers doing their best to soothe him. When they were both on their feet, she couldn’t kiss his face and his neck as easily and generously as she desired.

He came to her without question or hesitation and, for a few moments, he simply lapped up the comfort that she was willing to offer him. He nuzzled her, drinking in all her affection and requesting more, silently. 

As he found some of the comfort that he was looking for, he began to offer it in return, as was his practice. His hands trailed around her body. He kissed her wherever his lips happened to land. He held her, tightly enough that it was just on the verge of being uncomfortable, and he sighed when he’d found whatever it was that he needed—when he’d had enough, like someone who was pleasantly satiated from a meal. 

The sound of that satisfied sigh made Scully’s heart pump harder and faster in her chest. It made her feel the warm flood of affection for the man that could, at times, drive her absolutely crazy but, without whom, she couldn’t imagine living her life now.

“I love you,” she breathed out, finally breaking the silent sanctity surrounding them.

Mulder held her face. He looked in her eyes. He looked beyond her eyes, even, and Scully finally closed her eyelids to break the stare and to relieve herself of the feeling that he could see all the way into her soul. She was happy to share every piece of herself with him, and she had nothing to hide, but the feeling had been overwhelming. It hadn’t offended him. Instead, he released the hold on her face to caress it, and he kissed her lips.

“I love you,” he echoed. When she opened her eyes to him again, the sadness was back. The weight of the whole world sat on Mulder’s shoulders, it seemed. She smiled at him, knowing that it didn’t come across as sincerely as she wanted it to because her heart ached for him in that moment. “I wanted…I don’t know what I wanted.” 

“You wanted something more,” Scully offered, trying to give him choices for words and to press him into speaking and sharing his feelings. 

“I knew he wasn’t going to say anything,” Mulder said. 

“He wasn’t unkind, Mulder,” Scully said. “Did he say something to you when you were alone with him?” 

Mulder laughed to himself. It wasn’t sincere laughter. He pulled Scully to him and kissed her neck, gently, before pulling away again. He shook his head. 

“Just that—relationships can be challenging. Demanding. Hard work. Worse if we work together.” 

“Normal—words of wisdom, maybe? We know all those things,” Scully said. “We understand the challenges and the risks. And we’re ready to work through all of it, together.” 

“I guess I felt like—he was saying it was a bad idea,” Mulder said. “Or—like I hadn’t thought about it. Like I was just bringing home my first girlfriend and he knew it wasn’t serious and it wasn’t going to last.” 

“You remember what we said? It doesn’t matter,” Scully said. “Unless—it matters now, Mulder.” 

Mulder sighed and shook his head. The exhaustion was there, and it was front and center. 

“I just wanted him to be excited, I guess,” Mulder said. He laughed to himself. “He’s never been excited about anything my whole life—I don’t know why I thought he would be now.” 

Scully smiled to herself. She caught Mulder’s face, this time, and turned it to her.

“You wanted your parents to be excited because you’re excited,” Scully said. “It’s a perfectly natural response for us to want others to be excited for the good things in our lives. But, Mulder—as far as they know, right now? I’m just some woman that you’ve decided to date. We say we’re serious but…it’s not as exciting for them as it is for us. He’s your father, Mulder, and I’m sorry his reaction disappointed you, but…he wasn’t cruel. And I’m not offended. So, if you’re upset for you, then you have every right to that feeling, but please don’t be worried about me, Mulder. Your father’s emotionally distant. And—I understand that.” 

Mulder came back to her, but this time he simply held her close to him and breathed like he was breathing her in. Scully closed her eyes and relished the comfort of having him so close to her. When he pulled away, she let him go. He rearranged himself on the bed, throwing the covers back and pressing his cheek against her stomach. Her pulse quickened and her chest constricted at the simple gesture—it always did. He raised up to kiss her through her pajama top, and then he rested his cheek against her again, his eyes closed. Scully reached out and ran her fingers through his hair. 

“I don’t want to be like that,” he said quietly.

“What?” Scully asked.

“Emotionally distant, Scully,” Mulder said. “I don’t—I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want the alien to…” He stopped, clearly searching for words that he never found because he picked up without finishing what he’d started. “I just—don’t want to be like that.” 

Scully smiled at him. 

“Mulder,” Scully said quietly, still running her fingers through his hair, “like you like to point out, the alien is not much bigger than a blueberry. It’s an embryo. Barely formed. But already…so loved by both of us. But…Mulder? No baby whose father loves it this much when, to the world, it barely even counts as being real, is ever going to have to understand what it means to say your father’s just…emotionally distant.” 

Mulder abandoned his position, then, and righted himself in the bed, pulling the blankets back up as he came. Scully rested with her face close to Mulder’s. She smiled at him, because he needed it more than anything else at the moment, and she reached out to brush her fingertips against his face.

“You’re going to be a wonderful father, Mulder,” Scully assured him. She could see it—the weight had cracked and, piece by piece, it was chipping away. “You already are.”

“You’re an amazing mother,” Mulder offered. Scully laughed to herself. 

“I’m not telling you these things to ask you to pay me compliments in return, Mulder,” Scully assured him. Mulder smiled softly.

“It’s true, though,” Mulder said. “You’re—God, Scully…you’re the first line of defense. You’re providing everything…everything…the alien needs. You’re incredible.” 

“And you’re providing everything I need,” Scully said. She heard her inner, strong-and-entirely-independent woman sigh in frustration, but she purposefully decided to silence her. That was a construction. It was a facet of herself, even. It was something she’d created. But Scully didn’t have to be entirely independent, and she didn’t want to be. Not now that she’d found Mulder. Loving Mulder, and sharing everything with him didn’t make her any less strong, and she realized that now. 

She was strong enough to give him what he needed. 

For just a few minutes, they lie there facing each other. Scully relaxed fully while Mulder ran his hand over her arm, squeezing her muscles affectionately. He was the one that finally broke the silence between them.

“They’ll be more excited when we tell them about the alien, Scully,” Mulder said. “When they know this is more than just—dating.” 

Scully smiled to herself. She didn’t know how excited they would be or wouldn’t be. She had a hard time imagining that Mulder’s father could ever be excited about anything. She wasn’t sure he’d even been excited when his own children had been born. Mulder’s mother, perhaps, would open up a bit more when she realized that Scully was there to stay and wasn’t just a temporary and passing interest. She thought, though, that it might be best, when they decided to make the grand family tour to share the news of their little one, that they do things in reverse—just in case Mulder needed the comfort of her mother, heaping his plate with food and hugging him like he was the third son that she’d never had, following the disappointment that was likely if his parents didn’t act, in reality, like they did in Mulder’s daydream.

“Four or five more weeks to go, right?” Scully said. “Then the risk of miscarriage will be as low as it’s ever going to get and—we can tell everyone. But, Mulder? I just want you to remember that, no matter how anyone reacts? It doesn’t matter. Even if nobody in the world is happy for us? We’re still going to be happy. And we’re still going to bring our little alien home.”

Mulder smiled, either at her words or the thoughts that those words conjured up inside of him. 

“We better get some sleep. You know the morning’s always rough.” 

Scully hummed at him.

“But I still know you’ll take care of me,” Scully offered. 

“Always,” Mulder assured her before he moved close enough to her to kiss her goodnight—just as she knew he would every night. 

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AN: I hope that you enjoyed! We’ll be seeing much more “family” in the future. 

If you enjoyed this story and want to continue with the universe, I’ll let you know that my next piece is coming (very) soon. It will be titled “Restored,” and it will blend pieces of the “Colony” and “Endgame” episodes with this universe. Like all the others, it’ll be written so that it can be stand alone, if that’s what someone wants, but it’ll fit right into the larger narrative. 

I really hope that you enjoyed! If you have time, please drop me a comment and let me know what you think! I hope to see you on the next piece to the story!


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